


as we're not together

by Hazzafagga



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, POV, gay relationship, implied depression, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis is confused, management, only one curse word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzafagga/pseuds/Hazzafagga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one where it's real life and what might actually just be going on in louis' head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as we're not together

**Author's Note:**

> I've just written this now just off the idea i got from a youtube video I watched which was depressing af. I basically just took the idea of the video and put it into words with my own personal preference and idea of how this goes. no, I'm not saying louis thinks any of this and I'm not saying their management is this corrupt and brainwash the boys like how I put it. just a tiny little hint of what might maybe possibly be going on. I cannot stress "might maybe" and "possibly" enough.  
> anyways larrys real cya

From day one, it's been me and Harry. Everything we've done has always been for each other - or if not each other, for something that may help ourselves as one or ourselves as our own in a way that can help us understand what should be done for the other. It's always me and Harry, Harry and I, us. Never me or Harry, or me without Harry, me instead of Harry, me and not Harry. It's always been, for as long as I can remember in the life of mine that he's been in, me and Harry against the world.

Never would I have thought things like this would happen. I know that they do, somewhere, some place far away from what I thought I knew, in the lives of specially chosen people, as not everyone can go through the same things and same trauma. I thought, a long time ago as a naive child, that things like this could never, ever happen to me. But I was one of those persons - one of those persons that get chosen for the most outlandish experiences, for they have to happen to someone, as what can happen will happen, and there is no way anyone can avoid that.

Me and Harry are victims of Murphy's Law. Somehow, spontaneously, two people can meet, wherever they may be. They can linger in the same room countless of times and still not know of the very existence of the other. As it's possible. Also, not only can two persons unnoticeably meet numerous times and go unfazed by the fact that they've seen each other before, a fact that they don't know, they can go to the same place at the same time, as it's possible, and meet once more before things begin to go terribly wrong.

That was me and Harry. We were that. Before all of this, before all of the secrets or so much as the anticipation and suspicion of them, Harry and I, amazing that time was, were so helplessly, stupidly in love. Anything we said to each other out loud - everything we would have said or thought of saying or wanted to say - was never too much of one thing. It wasn't too much of anything. Back then, what I said or what Harry said, were possibly the easiest, simplest things to say. The innuendos between us, the jokes, the flirting, the evident appreciation for just having each other there and breathing was never scrutinised and seen as against any forms of rule. Then, I could touch him, I could just look at him, as impossible and distant as that factor seems now, and not feel the absolute guilt in knowing that I touched and looked at him.

In those moments, what me and Harry had was the most beautiful thing to ever occur in my life or any other life that I could have possibly been handed. Now, the way that I think of him has me wondering if who I am is a lie brought up by someone I hardly even know, or if I've brought this all on myself. As if who I am or was is eradicated.

There are times now that I look at Harry and guilt overrides. I feel guilty for looking. Though I know that it doesn't make him feel uncomfortable or fraught that I look, so I constantly ask myself the question: why do I always feel guilty for loving him? Having feelings for Harry was never a problem. I hadn't suddenly woken up one day beside him thinking _you are the fault for all of this_. When I see Harry, every time, I'm always much happier in that one, minuscule second as opposed to the second before as my eyes were not on him. Even when he's sad and crying or angry with me for the simplest or most consequential things, just him being there with me breathing will never be less satisfying than the best feeling I could ever be offered. And I cry over it sometimes, because thinking about it, really, really thinking about it, things like this just don't happen to people like me, as I've done nothing to deserve something so special or done anything to deserve it to be ripped away, leaving me fucked-over and mis-mended.

Harry manages to smile for me still, though sometimes when I get him down by accident, with just the sight of me, when we're both together and feeling sad, he says silly things like "I love you" and pulls me into cuddles. When I'm caught thinking about things I shouldn't be thinking about, Harry is who helps me. Even as we're not together and apart for some time, with his smile on my mind and reminder that he is what's real in this big propagandised lie, I know I'll manage.

Keeping up smiling and talking is easy. It's an immediate response, of that I have no troubles with. I can chat about what I like and answer questions in my best and worst interest, send thanks to fans, friends and family and feel normal. I can feel fine about telling the truth with what I think. However, when times come that he and I are brought up as a closeted pair, there's no describing the contradiction I have with myself, because all I want to do in those times is to get rid of the guilt that isn't real. But to confirm that, yes, we are a closeted pair then finally feel safe in and with my relationship with Harry will forever be contradicted by the fact that we won't be closeted anymore. And the very moment those words come out, there will be an entirely different shape of guilt there to greet me because announcing to the world that I am in love with my bandmate is wrong. Or simply as it comes to a point where I involuntarily peer to my right, glance to my left, Harry's always in that direction, even if I don't know it, and there is instantly a deep craving I have within me to look at him. I think that I am allowed to look, but as I do, I'm overwhelmed by the shock I feel in my head of where the guilt subsequently follows. I have enormous mounds of guilt with what I've been told is what's wrong and what the horrible matter is. When I look at Harry, I have no other instincts but to look away. If so much as my finger slips slightly off someone's shoulder as we go in for a group hug and I touch any of the boys' hands, I'm thrown by the possibility that it may just be Harry that I'm touching, so I haven't any other response but to pull away in guilt.

I shouldn't feel guilty. I shouldn't feel ashamed for showing affections as people can see them. And that may be confused with being in love. That is not the case. I will never, ever _be_ guilty for loving Harry. It's me and him, always.

I didn't wake up one day beside him and receive the most idiotic thought that everything that's happening, has happened, and will happen to us is his fault. It was a gradual attempt that did this for me - an attempt to make me think that what we have together, even with the possibility to someone that we may not be, is wrong. I've been mis-mended over the years, but as long as I have Harry beside me, breathing and there, just with me, even as we're not together, I know I can manage.

So it's me and Harry against the world. As it's always been.


End file.
